


A Distance Like an Ocean

by pencilguin



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Touching, with only a small hint of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-18 18:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21280955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: [spoilers for S2]Hugh and Paul are back together at last, and they have to try and relearn their needs and their boundaries, and how to communicate them, one step at a time.
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	A Distance Like an Ocean

Hugh can tell.

Paul isn’t saying anything; he’s trying not to show it. And Hugh gets why, he really does.

But it’s also frustrating, because he’d thought that they’d agreed on open and honest communication, from now on. Or again. Whichever.

Hugh can tell in the way Paul’s cheeks sometimes flush, how he quickly looks away, how his hands or his whole body twitches in Hugh’s direction before he catches himself and withdraws, and then one of his nervous hand tics kicks in again. Paul may not be much for PDA, but when they’re alone? He has always been _very_ physically affectionate, ever since he’d found out Hugh was okay with that, actively encouraged it.

Of course, now Hugh isn’t really okay with it anymore. Or maybe he is. Or maybe not quite yet. Hell, if Hugh knew himself. But still, it’s something that they need to address, to work on, to figure out — together.

Hugh takes a deep breath and tries to be patient. Paul knows he’s messed up, and Hugh knows he’s not always easy to deal with either. He tries a subtle approach, one that won’t leave Paul feeling cornered.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, while Paul climbs into bed next to him. There’s about half a meter of space between them, like every night. Hugh’s feelings about that gap are still ambivalent. He knows he’s the one who set it, more or less, a few nights ago when they first started sharing their bed and their quarters again. Neither of them has tried to reduce it so far.

Paul glances at him, then quickly looks away again. Hugh isn’t sure if he’s seeing some flicker of guilt cross his face or if he’s just _thinking_ it’s there. “Sure, of course.” Paul’s voice sounds normal.

_Okay then. _

“Computer, lights to night setting.” The room obeys. “Good night, Paul.”

Paul settles down under the covers. “Good night.”

Hugh lies awake for some time, trying not to think about whether he feels ready to hug Paul yet or not.

***

Hugh awakes to an all-encompassing and overwhelming sensation.

_Hot. Tight. Heavy._

For a few moments, he feels like he’s drowning, sinking, like a weight is dragging him to the bottom of the sea. His breath comes in short bursts, his heart starts racing, his pores are spreading cold sweat all over his skin. He quickly realizes that it’s Paul — _just_ Paul, but also _his_ Paul — but that doesn’t matter to his brain. He jerks out of Paul’s sleeping octopus grasp, then sits on the far edge of the bed, his breath still coming in heaves.

“Hugh…?” Paul mutters, squinting at him through sleepy eyes and with his speech still a little slurred, but Hugh can see it as realization sinks in for him. “Oh — Hugh, I’m — I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have —”

Hugh waves his hand in a dismissive gesture, but he also can’t look Paul in the eye right now, his breathing slowly calming. “You were sleeping… It was subconscious.”

Paul sits up on the opposite end now, as far away as they can be from each other in a bed of this size, and yet it doesn’t do justice to the distance Hugh is _feeling_, and he hates it, and it hurts. But he also can’t dismiss what he felt seconds ago: pure, undiluted panic.

When he finally dares to lift his gaze, he sees Paul staring down at a point in the far distance, and he can see his hands shaking. Paul looks like it’s taking all his self-restraint not to hit himself.

“Paul,” Hugh says, his heart heavy. “We need to talk.”

Paul’s eyes flicker up. He swallows, then he nods.

“When I said that I’d need some time to readjust to us again, I didn’t mean that we’d be stagnant forever.” He watches Paul, waiting to see if he has anything to say. His face is hard to read, but he doesn’t speak, so Hugh continues. “I can see that you’ve been stopping yourself from initiating physical contact.”

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” Paul says quietly. “That’s what would happen.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” Hugh tries his best not to sound accusing, because he isn’t, really. “That’s what we agreed on, remember? Honesty. Communication.”

Paul sighs. Closes his eyes. “Right. It just… It felt selfish. This isn’t about what _I_ want. It’s about you.”

“This is a relationship,” Hugh says softly. “Your needs are just as important as mine.”

He crawls forward and carefully places a hand on top of Paul’s. Paul opens his eyes at the contact, stares at it for a moment.

“Right. Sorry for being a dummy.” He smiles now, a little.

So does Hugh. “And you’re _my_ dummy.” Paul’s hand feels warm under his. Nice, comforting. It’s also not shaking anymore.

“I miss touching you. Hugging, cuddling, spooning… all the things we used to do. Sometimes it’s almost physically painful how much I miss it. Has been since…” His voice cracks briefly. “Since you died. It got better after some time, and then it got worse, when you returned, but…” He falters again. This time, he doesn’t finish. Hugh knows what he’s trying to say anyway.

“And you held it all in, and it came out while you were sleeping.”

“I guess.” Paul looks up, looks at Hugh. His hand still hasn’t moved, and Hugh notices that he’s started rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb. “Sorry for spooking you like that.”

Hugh can’t stand seeing the pain on his face. “Sorry I freaked out like I did. But it was just too sudden and too much.”

Paul simply nods, and Hugh is relieved to see — no, to _know_ — that he understands.

He takes Paul’s hand in his, lifts it up from the sheets, brings their palms together. “This,” he says, “this feels nice. I miss touching you, too, you know. And it _is_ different, but it’s also good.”

Paul squeezes his hand a little. A faint smile grows on his lips, too. “So you’d like to do this one step at a time? Slowly ease into contact again?”

Hugh’s face lights up and he nods. “Yes.”

“Okay.” The smile on Paul’s face widens some more. “That’s okay for me, of course.” He starts doing the same circular thumb motion that Hugh did before. “What do you think you’re okay with, for now? This?” He lifts their joined hands a bit. “Holding hands?”

“Yes,” Hugh responds after a moment of consideration. He knows Paul, of course he does; knows that he’s a good man, kind, understanding. When he thinks of it. He just needs a reminder once in a while, especially now, when they’re a little out of sync, when their cogs need to interlock again. He thinks about how Paul must have instinctively crawled over in his sleep, how much he must have been craving being close to Hugh. It hurts, he has to admit. But the memory of his own panic is still too fresh in his mind.

He considers for a moment, then starts, “May I…”

Everything about Paul softens, and Hugh falls in love a little bit all over again. “Whatever it is, the answer is probably ‘yes’. How about this?” Paul suggests. “You are welcome to initiate any physical contact, if it’s anything we’ve ever done before and I haven’t protested. If I… If there’s something I’d like, I will ask you. Okay?”

Hugh smiles. “I can work with that.” After another moment, he scoots a little closer, and kisses Paul’s cheek.

His pale skin blushes, and in the simulated morning light of the Discovery, he glows just as beautifully as Hugh remembers it.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

Paul breathes in deeply, then out. Hugh sees his chest rise and fall under his pajama shirt. “I know.” He sounds absolutely certain. “But it feels good to hear it, still.”

Hugh smiles at him fondly. The gap between them has shrunk, and not just physically; he can feel it. One day, Hugh hopes, Paul’s embrace will make him feel as safe again as it used to.

“Let’s get dressed and go down to the mess hall for breakfast together.”

“Sounds good,” Paul says, with a smile.

While they both get out of bed, Hugh hopes that they’ll meet some friends to sit with. He’d like to sit next to Paul today, not across the table from him. And if it was a little crammed, and their thighs were pressed together, or their arms were to brush against each other on occasion, Hugh finds that he wouldn’t mind that at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [@tincanspaceship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tincanspaceship) for beta reading! 
> 
> As always, thank you so much to everyone who leaves lovely and supportive comments on my fics! Even if I usually don't know how to adequately respond to them, please be assured that they make me super happy and brighten my day! <3


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